


va-gay-tion

by princessoftheworlds



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alien Planet, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Team Bonding, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: After the Cardiff bombings, Torchwood Three and Martha take a vacation to the alien world of Venetian III where Martha might have to face her growing crush on one Toshiko Sato.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Martha Jones/Toshiko Sato
Comments: 22
Kudos: 26
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: 2021 Femslash Fest





	va-gay-tion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [juliana677](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliana677/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Jewels! You asked for team bonding, and then I asked if I could make it gay, and you asked for Martha and Tosh! I hope you like this!
> 
> Also, my first contribution to Torchwood Femslash Fest! AKA the perfect way to start off the month!
> 
> Thanks to Al for editing! Very much thank you to Louise and Vi for the advice/design aid for the banner!

“A trip to Venetian III?” Martha repeats skeptically. “To facilitate team bonding?” Despite her raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes and the slight smile tugging at her lips, Jack’s bright enthusiasm doesn’t diminish as he nods.

“Well, really, it’s a vacation,” explains Jack eventually. “One the team particularly needs and deserves, after everything... that happened.”

Everything that happened, Martha considers. Which includes Owen’s death, sudden undeath, the Cardiff bombings, Jack’s torture at the hands of his brother, Tosh’s near death, and Owen’s sudden un-undeath. 

Yes, she can see why a vacation might be warranted for Torchwood Three.

“And why am I coming along?” asks Martha, and Jack’s expression softens, becoming a bit more pleading. “You specifically requested my presence as a UNIT envoy.”

“You’re recently single,” Jack reminds her, not that she needs the reminder of her broken-off engagement, “and you deserve a change of pace. Plus, you’ll love Venetian III. I’ve been there before, back when I was a Time Agent, and it’s gorgeous. It’ll be almost like travelling with the Doctor again. Minus the unexpected danger, of course.”

She bites her lip, contemplating her options. A vacation does sound nice… and it’s not like the world will ever stop being in danger at any point in the future.

“Alright,” she agrees. “I’ll come on vacation with you.”

* * *

Venetian III is as gorgeous as Jack promised - a planet of floating islands dotted with canals and cobblestones and marketplaces full of vivid silks and bright birds, named entirely accurately after the Italian city.

“Fucking hell,” Owen says as the team steps through the Rift-controlled portal with travel bags in hand, glancing behind him as the portal seals itself with a flash of light and a quiet hiss. “Do all alien worlds look like this?”

Grinning, vibrating with life and happiness in a way he hasn’t for weeks, Jack slings an arm around Owen’s shoulder, pulling the other man forward as they stride towards a cluster of stone buildings. “Nope! They all look different. This is one of the best.”

Gwen and Ianto, their arms linked together, quietly discuss their new surroundings as they follow Jack and Owen. By Martha’s side, Tosh casts wide eyes around the approaching marketplace. The expression on her face is a bit hesitant, a bit lost. Martha recognizes that look; she wore the same expression when the Doctor first took her to New Earth. 

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she says to Tosh, who nods.

“More than I ever imagined,” admits Tosh. “We spend years on Earth, at Torchwood, studying whatever the Rift pulls through and dumps in Cardiff, but none of it measures up to this world.” A beat. “It’s almost overwhelming.”

Shifting her bag to her other shoulder, Martha frees her hand and reaches to tangle her fingers with Tosh’s. 

“Good thing you have me by your side,” she says cheerfully. “I’m a former companion. There’s no one better to show you around your first alien world.”

* * *

The Venetian III ambassadors finally meet them in the center of the marketplace. The species is distinctively humanoid, with skin in shades of an Earth sunset and eyes that glitter like jewels. M’iya, the main ambassador, greets Jack with a warm, familiar smile; they met on Earth almost two decades earlier during a kidnapping debacle with the Venetian prince, and Jack was left with a long-standing invitation to Venetian III.

Turning to the rest of Torchwood, M’iya says, in accented English, “You and your Captain are all invited to tonight’s evening performance of the opera in honor of the Prince. I know he is eager to welcome the human who saved his life and his family.”

Diplomatic as ever, Ianto steps forwards and bends in a deep bow. Straightening up, he replies, “We would be delighted to attend, Ambassador M’iya.”

Jack and Ianto busy themselves with niceties with M’iya while Gwen moves to converse with the other two ambassadors. 

“Are we just going to stand around here forever?” Owen grumbles to Martha and Tosh, but he wears a poorly disguised expression of excitement. As far as Martha’s noticed, he seems to be behaving just like he did before he died - or at least the way he behaved in the brief twenty-four hours Martha knew him alive; clearly, he’s very happy to be alive again. She can’t fault him for that.

Eventually Jack, Ianto, and M’iya break their conversation, and M’iya and the other ambassadors begin to lead the team towards the other side of this city. It’s a short ten-minute walk to their lodgings - an expansive, elaborate mansion with far more bedrooms than Torchwood really needs, without even taking into account whether Jack and Ianto will share or not.

“I could have brought Rhys,” Gwen leans over to mutter to Martha as they stand in the main parlor of the mansion, gaping at the gleaming marble surfaces and numerous lush plants dotting every corner. “He was supposed to come, but a lorry driver landed himself in the hospital, and Rhys had to pick up his route last-minute.”

Beside Martha, Tosh is busy peering at a marble pillar, running her hands over it... until Martha realizes that she is actually clutching a tiny scanner in her palm and discreetly recording data. Biting back a laugh, Martha wanders over to join her. 

“I thought Jack said all tech stayed at home,” she jokes.

“What Jack doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Tosh replies blithely, almost distractedly, but when she glances up, Martha notices that the corners of her lips are turned up into a teasing grin.

Tosh has a lovely smile, Martha realizes. How has she never noticed before? Granted, she hasn’t spent a lot of time around Jack’s team before, and the time she did was preoccupied with the Pharm and then with Owen’s newfound status as a zombie.

But now, as she focuses on the other woman, Martha is faced with just how pretty she is. (Jack’s entire team is; the man is vainer than vain, and clearly, so are his hiring choices.) She has defined cheekbones and dark, clever eyes and sleek hair, just as Martha is usually attracted to, but most importantly, she has a brilliant mind to rival the Doctor’s.

Martha feels a sudden desire to watch Tosh meet the Doctor.

“Okay, team!” Jack announces, his voice booming in the vast parlor. Martha flinches before abruptly realizing that the Venetian ambassadors are edging out the doors of the mansion. She missed the goodbyes exchanged, but it looks like Torchwood is on its own for a little while. “Let’s take some time to explore our temporary home and test the beds,” - here, Jack waggles his eyebrows at Ianto, who rolls his eyes - “but M’iya has told me that we are expected at the royal tailor’s in a few hours for some new threads.”

Tosh inhales sharply, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline. “I am suddenly very glad that Jack saved an alien baby prince,” she admits.

* * *

The moment the team walks into the tailor’s shop, Ianto nearly grinds to a sudden halt, gazing around briefly in unreserved awe before he recomposes himself. Eyes bright, Jack latches on to his boyfriend and tugs him towards an elaborate display of fabrics against one wall, where the royal tailor - judging by the finery of his uniform - awaits.

“I think he was drooling,” Gwen says fondly before she too is whisked away by one of the tailor’s assistants. Owen is steered in the opposite direction, and Martha and Tosh are taken towards the back of the shop, where their measurements are taken via an in-depth three-dimensional scan.

Tosh, standing on the podium beside Martha’s as both outstretched their arms, blinks owlishly when the cool blue lights of the sensors wash over her. Then she breaks into a wide grin.

“I wonder if there’s a royal research department here,” she voices to Martha. “Do you think that M’iya will allow me to speak to any researchers? The use of advanced technology in everyday Venetian life is simply fascinating.” She begins to discuss a wide variety of technological details that Martha doesn’t entirely catch, but she still manages to follow along well enough; Tosh is a more patient, more coherent explainer than the Doctor. Finally, Tosh pauses, blushing brightly. “Sorry, sorry, you didn’t want to hear any of that.”

“I don’t mind,” says Martha simply. “Admittedly, I don’t understand much of it, but you looked like you were enjoying yourself.” And Tosh had looked so endearingly excited that Martha hadn’t wanted to discourage her. 

“Oh,” Tosh replies softly. Then she beams, and Martha’s heart skips a beat.

Oh, she’s got it bad, hasn’t she? She doesn’t know when exactly she started crushing on Tosh - likely when she first met the other woman, though she didn’t realize until recently, in the weeks she’s had since she and Tom broke off their engagement and she escaped to Cardiff to help Torchwood heal. 

Martha returns her attention to watching the tailor’s assistants fiddle with the sensors and check their measurements on a thin tablet. One of the Venetians glances up and gives Martha a friendly smile.

“Do you know what kind of garment you would like, Ms. Jones?” they ask. “Or what kind of fabrics or colors, perhaps?”

“I was very much interested in something traditionally Venetian,” admits Martha. “So I would really appreciate it if you’d like to help and advise me.”

The Venetian’s smile increases, and they gesture to Martha to follow them to a different section of the shop. Martha gives Tosh an apologetic expression, but Tosh waves goodbye to her.

The fabrics that the Venetian - they introduce themself as Lira - displays to Martha closely resemble those of Earth - silks, velvets, satin, even the lightest of cottons - but the colors are unbelievable. Cool blues in the vast different shades of the ocean - foamy white all the way to a dark, stormy blue-black. Rosy pinks, lilacs, a sunset orange. Blood red, emerald green, almost everything jewel-toned. Martha doesn’t even have a particular eye for fashion, but she can’t help but drool. She wonders how Ianto is faring right now.

Finally, Lira shows Martha the perfect fabric, the perfect shade, and Martha gasps, her eyes widening in awe.

“This one,” she says. “I choose this one.”

Lira nods. “You will look resplendent, Ms. Jones,” they say, and Martha blushes.

Secretly, she hopes that Tosh will think that too.

* * *

“Looking good, Ms. Jones,” Jack drawls, giving Martha an appreciative glance-over when she steps out into the main parlor. “I wouldn’t mind having you on my arm.”

Both he and Ianto are wearing fine suits cut to be a little more flowing, as is the traditional Venetian style, Martha has learned. Jack’s is a blue dark enough to pass for black while Ianto’s is black with maroon accents. Both men look incredibly attractive... and entirely besotted with each other.

“I’d appreciate that offer if Ianto hadn’t already staked his claim on you,” Martha tells him dryly. 

“So you wouldn’t fight for me?” Jack’s pout wavers when Ianto rolls his eyes, and he turns to glare at his boyfriend.

Neither of them notice when Martha’s attention is stolen away by Tosh entering the parlor, followed by Owen and Gwen trailing behind, both engrossed in conversation.

Tosh is… she is simply gorgeous. Her hair is twined up into a bun but with locks cascading over a shoulder. And her dress... it’s indescribable, the front lacy with a plunging neck with lace that trickles over to her shoulders, and the rest of the dress flows out into a skirt with a gauzy sheen, the fabric an iridescent ombre of lilac, violet, and light blue. There are similarly colored jewels glittering at Tosh’s ears, around her neck, and on her wrist, even woven into her hair. 

“Tosh,” Martha says breathlessly, striding over, the skirts of her own gown swishing with her hurried motion, “you look… amazing.” A moment later, she bites her tongue, regretting how underwhelming her compliment was.

The other woman still blushes, ducking her head. “Thank you, Martha.” She hesitates, her blush brightening. “You look incredible yourself.” 

Martha doesn’t believe her own gown to be as beautiful as Tosh’s, but she does know she looks good. The neckline plunges fairly deep, and the sleeves are long, loose, and flowy. The fabric she’d ended up choosing is a golden-grey-silver embroidered with emerald green trees, but the thread itself is iridescent and feels silky to the touch. Her hair is pulled back and pinned with a deep green jeweled clasp. 

She smiles at the other woman, her heart fluttering. “Thank you, Tosh.”

“Wow,” Gwen says as she joins their side. “You both look gorgeous.” Her own gown is in a deep maroon and shimmering, her lips painted a dark shade to match and her hair twisted up. 

“Shall we go then?” Owen asks, leaning against a pillar. He’s gone a bit more classic with a tuxedo, but the Venetian style and touch can still be seen in the draping of his jacket and the iridescent thread. “What the bloody hell are we waiting for?”

“We all clean up fairly nicely,” Jack says proudly as he and Ianto trail closer. Martha notices that their hands are discreetly clasped by their sides, and she hides a smile. “We should do this more often.”

“Cardiff should be in world-ending danger less often,” Owen snarks, but he still grins slightly and offers Gwen his arm, following Jack and Ianto out the doors of the mansion.

Martha offers Tosh her arm. “Shall we, Ms. Sato?” she asks with a slight curtsey. 

Giggling, Tosh takes it. “If you insist, Ms. Jones.”

* * *

The opera is beyond anything Martha could have imagined. Even in her travels with the Doctor, she’s never heard music like the Venetians singing before. Their voices, joined together in one singular harmony, rise and echo in the vast concert hall, melodic and gorgeous and evoking a distinct sense of melancholy in Martha. By the time the first act comes to its grand finish, she’s sniffling, a lone tear ambling its way down her cheek. She doesn’t dare reach up and wipe it away in the hushed silence that befalls the hall. 

When the curtains finally draw for intermission, Martha finds the strength to slip from her plush seat in the royal box and pop out to the balcony for some air. There, she finds that she is not alone. Tosh has snuck out here a few minutes before Martha, and her eyes are red-rimmed. She shivers in the cold evening air, rubbing her bare arms. A single curl has slipped loose of her updo and falls enchantingly against her cheek. Martha’s fingers itch to tuck it behind Tosh’s ear.

“That was beautiful,” Martha says quietly as she strides towards Tosh, joining the other woman against the balcony railing. “Opera’s not usually my thing, but I was incredibly invested.” When Tosh glances up, smiling kindly at Martha: “Are you an opera-goer?”

“I enjoy the occasional performance,” Tosh admits, and she leans against Martha slightly, just enough so that Martha can feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her gown. “I once attended a performance at the Cardiff Bay Millennium Hall. The entire opera was attacked by aliens.”

“Such is the life of a Torchwood operative,” Martha jokes, and Tosh’s smile widens, her eyes twinkling.

“You’ve seemed much happier these last few days,” Tosh tells her. “At least since... you came to Cardiff.”

Since Martha’s engagement ended.

“It’s so nice to see you happy,” continues Tosh, “and I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” 

“Doing what?” a bewildered Martha asks.

Then Tosh leans in and kisses her. Her lips are warm and soft against Martha’s, the pressure exquisite, and she smells distinctly of flowers, a perfume that Martha’s never smelt before, likely Venetian in origin. Martha’s heart flutters in her chest, pressing closer to Tosh, but too quickly, Tosh is stepping back.

“Doing  _ that, _ ” she says simply. Her expression is shy, eyes wide and hopeful, but as Martha continues to gape at her, all her cool composure lost, it becomes more hesitant. “I’m sorry if-”

“Don’t be,” Martha says quickly. “Don’t be sorry. I liked that.” She swallows and attempts to recompose herself. “I liked you kissing me.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Tosh says to Martha.

Martha beams. “I think,” she begins, “that when we return to Cardiff, I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I think I want that as well,” replies Tosh, returning Martha’s grin. A faint bell chimes from inside the concert hall, signalling the end of the intermission. Tosh turns, offering Martha her arm. “Shall we return inside, Ms. Jones?”

Quickly, Martha leans over to plant a kiss on Tosh’s cheek and watches Tosh blush. “I think we shall, Ms. Sato.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik). I tweet and reblog mostly Torchwood with occasionally amusing commentary on nonsense. Please come talk to me and tell me if/how much you like my fic or like ask me about it on tumblr; all my schoolwork has become remote now, and I have limited social interaction.
> 
> Reblog the tumblr post [here](https://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/post/641894248771469312/title-va-gay-tion-link-here-prompts-rarepair).


End file.
